


goddesses don't speak in whispers, darling:  they SCREAM

by chemicalburnfromthespiralperm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Implied Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:32:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm
Summary: she tastes like ambrosia. god, does he even know what ambrosia tastes like? his hands slide down her back to rest at her waist and he pulls her hips into his. she moans against him and it’s a beautiful fucking sound, god, how can she not know what she sounds like?(reposted and expanded on from my tumblr)





	

he sees her there like he’s seen himself so many god damn times.  the one surefire way to make yourself feel like an irredeemable monster?  kill a civilian.  murder them in cold blood.  accident or not, you've got their blood on your hands even if you technically don't.  there is so much blood on sam's hands that his palms are stained red.  eileen is pure.  she can't taint herself like sam has.  he won't let her become that.

dean makes himself busy after the hug, gets lost, and sam is grateful.  eileen smells like lavender and gun powder and sam can't get the scent out of his mind.  her hair is so soft and shiny and beautiful and he feels like, well...  like a skeezer.  he leads eileen to one of a hundred guest rooms but when he tries to shut the door behind her she doesn’t let go of his hand.

she doesn’t speak.  she signs.

“stay.  please.”

sam is nervous because sam is always nervous but this kind of nervous feels different.  he feels like a virgin again.  he won’t fuck her, she’s different, but she’s desperate for more than that and, honest to god, so is sam.  her soft, doll skin, that rosey smile, those betty davis bedroom eyes.  he has to.  he could never say no.  he so badly wants to keep this separate.  she is eileen and he is sam, and they don't need to become eileen and sam.  he can't ruin this but she's looking at him like he hung the moon, and god's honest, he would for her.  he's seen dean do it for him so many times that it would only make dean proud to do it for someone else, right?

“i’ll stay.”

he doesn’t speak either.  his sign isn’t perfect but her eyes light up regardless.  he’s trying.  he wonders how many other people have tried.  judging by the look on her face, not many.

she grabs his hand out of the air and laces their fingers.  she starts to sign something with their hands together and sam panics because he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t get it, but she shhs him, reassures him, doesn’t stop touching him because if she did he swears he’d fall 100% apart.  those fingers, those hands, soft and barely a quarter of the size of his, connected and staying.  maybe he needs her to stay more than she does.

but, he nods.  okay. fine.  he’ll play the game.

she looks so fucking sad, and he wants to kiss her, but he’s not that kind of guy.  he wouldn’t rob her of her own choices when she is vulnerable.  he’s been robbed of his too many times.  he knows the story.  eileen doesn't need to.

she’s tracing letters in his hand: s-a-m.  e-i-l-e-e-n.  k-i-l-l.  she lets her hand slide up his arm.  her other hand joins on his other arm.  she’s sliding her hands under the shoulders of his flannel and pushing it off his body, her hands still never ceasing touch.  she’s so short and sam’s neck is starting to hurt but when her hands reach his neck that’s when she pulls him down into a kiss.  that’s when the fire is finally started.  this whole time he thought he was living but he was just surviving, or perhaps he was drowning and eileen was that big gulp of air once he's allowed to rise to the top.  she tastes like ambrosia.  god, does he even know what ambrosia tastes like?  his hands slide down her back to rest at her waist and he pulls her hips into his.  she moans against him and it’s a beautiful fucking sound, god, how can she not know what she sounds like?  he presses deeper, tongue sweeping, swallowing her sounds, licking into her like she holds the truth of the ages.  he’s gone.   spent. hollow only to be filled with eileen lahey.

he can’t be in love with her, _he can’t be_ \- they only talk literally every day and sam literally started learning another language for her and he told her about Jess and he NEVER tells people about Jess (and oh my god, he hasn't loved someone since Jess, has he?) and she told him about her parents and what it means to be Deaf and she showed him how to say his name in asl and her eyes lit up the first time he called her on video chat and he asked her not to talk and signed instead and he swears that was the moment that maybe she loved him, too.

“i love you,” he whispers into her mouth, and he instantly regrets it because it makes her pull away. she’s confused, written across her perfect features.

“what did you say?”

“um… should I sleep - do you….” god, level up, sam.  he's so embarrassed.  he ducks his head, bites his lip a little. “can I sleep with you - not WITH you, but like… in here… beside you?”

she smiles so softly and sweetly.

"i can't read your lips if you're not looking at me."

he tries again.  "can i sleep in here with you?  or...  would you like me to?"

eileen just nods, that sweet smile still on her lips.  she moves to undress him down to his briefs and she undresses herself down to her bra and underwear and they settle into the bed that’s too small, but somehow it works. they’re huddled under the blankets and she’s so soft and sam can’t stop kissing her until she finally settles into him, head under his chin. she kisses his chest, traces designs against his skin and he feels like somethings slotted itself home in his chest.

“i love you, too.”


End file.
